Love After War (14 page)

Adrian slammed his hand on the table. “Don't you think she needed more than some goddamned money? Don't you think I deserved a father?”

“I've regretted that decision for years. But Pamela decided that I shouldn't be a part of your life.”

Adrian leaned back in his chair. “Think she was wrong? I see how you treat your sons.”

“Make no mistake, I love my sons—all of you—but Solomon and Richmond were spoiled. They had everything handed to them. I can tell you know struggle and you have fight in you.”

Adrian shook his head. Was this son of a bitch serious? He and his mother struggled because of him. His mother left the city she loved and had wanted to live in all of her life because of him. “You're full of it.”

Elliot shrugged nonchalantly. “I can't change the past, but I was hoping that you called me here because you wanted to get to know me better. All of this controversy surrounding my other two sons got me thinking. Maybe it's time for me to get to know you better. Bring you into the business.”

Adrian opened his mouth, itching to tell him that the more he talked the less he was interested in getting to know him. What he'd learned so far turned his stomach. “What was it like for you growing up?” he asked Elliot.

The older man snorted, took a sip of his drink, and glanced out the window. “I was poor. Smart, but poor. I was the first in the family to attend college and get out of the ghettos of Baltimore. I lost my brother to the drug trade, watched my father work himself to death, and my mama died without a cent to her name. That kind of life made me hungry. But I watched all of these people with their silver spoons depending on Mama and Daddy but not doing anything to make something of themselves. I could've been a hustler . . . tried it but I wanted more.”

Adrian shook his head. Sadly he could recognize himself in his father's words. They were more alike than he wanted to admit. “I wanted more as well,” Adrian said. “When my basketball teammates talked about their families, I always felt as if something were missing in my life. Paul never acted like a real father. Didn't care about what I did, whether I got in trouble or not.”

“Paul?” Elliot asked, and had the nerve to sound jealous. “Who was Paul?”

“My mother's husband. He died when I was seven and for years, I thought he was my father.”

Elliot tensed. “She was married?”

“Weren't you?” Adrian shot back. “You had your life. Was she supposed to stop living? It's your goddamned fault that we ended up here when my mama loved New York. She searched for happiness and never turned her back on me. Too bad you left both of us for the almighty dollar.”

“But I sent you and your mother money faithfully so that you wouldn't have to struggle like I did when I was growing up.”

“You think a few crumbs from your buffet make up for the emotional pain my mother and I endured ?”

Elliot inhaled sharply. “I guess it doesn't. But I was hurting as well, separated from my true love and not knowing the fate of my son. I thought with your mother being three thousand miles away, I'd be able to love Cynthia, but I thought of her every day. Missed the times we shared. She made me feel like a real man, not someone who owed her anything. I could be myself with your mother.”

“Shut up!” Adrian thundered. “If you had all of these feelings and this deep love for my mother, you would've found a way to be with her. With me.”

“You can't sit here with childish anger because Daddy didn't tuck you in at night. Build a bridge and get over it.”

Adrian lunged across the table and grabbed Elliot by the lapels of his jacket, causing the other patrons in the restaurant to watch them in horror. “You piece of sh—”

A strong hand yanked Adrian back and Elliot fell into his seat. Looking up, Adrian nearly took a right hook from Solomon Crawford. Ducking, he pushed his brother backward into a waiter's cart. Solomon stumbled, then steadied himself. “What in the hell is going on here?”

“Why don't you ask our dear old dad?” Adrian spat.

Elliot looked from Adrian to Solomon. “What is he talking about?” Solomon asked.

“Mr. Family Values here didn't tell you about the son and woman he had tucked away in Los Angeles ?” Adrian said.

Taking note of the phones and iPads pointed at them, Elliot turned to Solomon. “This isn't the place.”

“Dad, what is this fool talking about?” Solomon asked as he looked from Adrian to Elliot.

Elliot shot a quick glance at Adrian, then shook his head. “I don't know. Obviously he wants to cause a scene.”

Adrian's heart broke. He knew in that moment that he would never accept this man as his father. Nothing had changed and Elliot Crawford was still about saving face and protecting his image of the perfect family. Having a bastard son and a dead mistress didn't go along with that image. “Son of a bitch. If you think this is a scene, you haven't seen nothing yet.” Adrian pushed past Solomon and tore out of the restaurant. He sat in the parking deck, silently cursing himself for believing he could have anything other than contempt for the man who abandoned his mother. “Mama, you were better off without that slimy son of a bitch.”

Starting his car, Adrian peeled out of the garage and drove to the house in Inglewood where his mother raised him. Parking on the street, he could almost feel her watching him from the bay window.

Smiling, he remembered how his mother used to ride her Schwinn alongside him, her hair pulled up in an Afro puff as they raced up and down the block. He was never embarrassed to hang around his mother and wore the term
mama's boy
like a badge of honor. What he couldn't understand was the story his father spun about loving his mother but not wanting to be with her. Didn't he understand what a jewel his mother had been and how lucky he was to have her in his life?

How many years had his mother wasted longing for a man who didn't want her? Adrian exited the car and walked over to the house. He could hear the echoes of his childhood and hoped whoever lived in there had the happiness that he did as a child. Just because, Adrian dropped a few hundred dollars in the mailbox. He didn't know the family who lived there or if they needed the money, but he hoped it would pay for something they wanted.

Walking back to his car, Adrian decided that he was going to take his story straight to the media and he wasn't holding back a detail. Going after his brothers had been wrong; it was Elliot who needed to suffer. Since the money and the image was so important to him, it was time to shine the spotlight on him that he didn't want.

Driving to his house, Adrian knew he had to find a picture of his mother with Elliot. He vowed to never call that man his father again. He sped down the street ready to pull his trump card.

 

 

Dana looked at her watch. It was seven-fifteen. Yes, she was late, but there was no sign of Adrian anywhere. “Great,” she muttered as she leaned against her bike. “I'm hungry and he needs to come on.”

She glanced at her watch again. Seven-twenty. Still no word from Adrian, no text, no call. She dialed his number and the phone went straight to voice mail. “Adrian, where are you? I'm at the club waiting on you and that Chinese takeout you promised me. Well, maybe you didn't promise me Chinese, but I'm yearning for some egg foo young and spring rolls. Hopefully I'll see you soon.”

As soon as she ended the call, her phone rang again. “Well it's about time.”

“Dana, where are you?” Imani asked.

“Waiting for Adrian. Why?”

“You need to get to a TV, quickly. Your boy is on there talking about the Crawfords.”

“What?”

“Did you know that your man is Elliot Crawford's son?”

Dana stood on the street with her mouth agape. “Where is all of this taking place?”

“He's on KTLA in front of the Crawford Towers. I think the shot was live.”

Dana hopped on her bike after clicking END on her call with Imani and headed for the construction site. Adrian had some explaining to do.

Adrian shook hands with the reporter after the live shot ended. “This is some heavy stuff,” the blonde said with a flip of her hair. “Would you—” Before she could finish her statement, her cell phone rang. “Yes,” she said, keeping her eyes on Adrian. “I'm on my way.” Smiling at him, she shrugged. “Looks like dear old dad was watching and he has a statement to make. Maybe after this news cycle is over, you and I can have a drink?” She winked at him and Adrian shook his head.

“I'll pass,” he replied as he saw a Harley barreling toward him. Adrian hadn't thought about what his appearance on the news would mean for Dana. And he'd totally forgotten that they were supposed to meet at his club. “Shit,” he muttered as he crossed over to her.

“What's going on, Adrian?”

“I'm sorry I didn't—”

Dana threw her hand up in his face. “This isn't about that and you damned well know it. Elliot Crawford is your father? Is this the big secret you've been keeping from me and wanted to hide me away from? You think it's okay for me to find out on the news?”

“Dana, this has nothing to do with you, and this is why I wanted to keep you away from all of this.”

“How could you just blindside me like that?” She shoved him against his shoulder. “How long have you known?”

“Dana, I don't want to do this out here right now.”

She slapped her hands against her hips. “You don't have a choice.”

“Let's get out of here and I'll explain everything.”

Dana shook her head. “You know what, I'm not doing this with you anymore. I'm having déjà vu because this is the same bullshit you did to me two years ago. I asked you not to keep anything from me. I asked you to be honest with me no matter what, and once again, you've lied to me.”

“How did I lie to you? I told you this isn't about you and if you want to wear your feelings on your shoulder because my father lied about his relationship with my mother and my paternity, have at it.” He tore away from her and hopped into his car. Part of her wanted to follow him and demand that he talk to her and tell her everything. But she decided that she wasn't going to put herself through this again. She couldn't allow her heart to be smashed again.

Her phone rang and she knew it was Imani. She didn't have time to listen to her friend say
I told you so.
Pulling her helmet onto her head, Dana hopped on her bike and sped away. Though she tried to focus on the road, Dana couldn't help but berate herself for falling back into Adrian's life. Things began to make sense to her, the need to embarrass Solomon, why he wanted Richmond at his club and drunk. What kind of man did this to his family, no matter how estranged they were? Was this the kind of man she wanted to give her heart, love, and trust to?

Leaning right, Dana headed back to hotel, her mind racing as fast as her bike's engine. Maybe she should've gone back to New York immediately, but part of her wanted to find out what Adrian was up to and how finding out about his father really affected him.

When Dana arrived at the hotel, she wasn't at all surprised to find Imani waiting for her in the lobby.

“Did you find him?” Imani asked.

Dana rolled her eyes. “I did. And I don't want to talk about it.”

Imani cocked her head to the side. “And you think that's going to stop me from asking questions ?”

Before Dana could tell her friend to go find her husband, two fans rushed up to them and begged Imani for her autograph. She signed the notebooks they pushed in her face and Dana thought about dashing to the elevator, leaving Imani and her questions in the lobby. Instead, she waited for Imani to finish up with her fans.

“Still enjoying your fame?” Dana asked once they were alone.

Nodding, Imani pointed at her friend. “Don't try to change the subject. What are you going to do?”

Dana walked toward the elevator with Imani close on her heels. “What can I do? I still have a job to do and then there's this thing with Ian.” She pressed the UP button and waited for the door to open.

“What thing with Ian?” Imani asked.

“He's going to rehab. I had to reshoot his publicity photos today. That's one of the reasons why I wasn't in front of a TV to see Adrian's bombshell. Part of me wants to stick around and be Ian's cheerleader. Did you know he had a drinking problem?”

Imani shook her head. “No idea at all. I'm really shocked. But why would you want to be his cheerleader when it's obvious where your heart lies.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You made it seem as if you and this Adrian guy were going to start your failed relationship over . . .”

“Watch it,” Dana gritted out.

Imani shrugged and placed her hand on her friend's shoulder as they stepped on the elevator. “I just want to make sure you're all right.”

“I've done this before. I'll be fine.”

“Well, you don't have to do it again. And if you're going to be Ian's cheerleader, who knows what might develop romantically?” Imani wiggled her eyebrows.

Dana rolled her eyes as the elevator stopped on her floor. “Ian is nice, but I'm not up for taking care of a drunk movie star. And wait, you're actually pushing me toward a man who's about to go to rehab for his alcohol addiction over Adrian?”

Imani shrugged. “Well, Ian hasn't broken your heart. But I guess you're right. Why trade one set of problems for another set? The best thing to do is toss them all away. Including the newest member of the Crawford family.” They walked into Dana's room and Imani immediately picked up the room service menu.

“Imani, I want to be alone.”

“After we eat, and I promise, no more questions about that asshole. If your gig here is done, you can go back to New York with me. Raymond left this morning because he's tired of living out of a suitcase and he said he needs to give Keith some time to spend with Celeste.”

“You married a prince. I hope you realize that.”

Imani smiled and stroked her stomach. “Yes, I do. And I want you to marry a prince too. You deserve nothing less.”

Dana's thoughts drifted to Adrian. She couldn't deny that she still loved him and yearned for a future with him. Nor could she pretend that she didn't believe he wasn't trying to hurt her again. But she was still mad as hell. Still hurt that he felt he had to hide his pain from her. Imani picked up the phone and ordered food while Dana absentmindedly flipped through the channels. She stopped when she saw Adrian's face on Headline News's
Showbiz Tonight
. The host set up the story, saying that Adrian Bryant, a successful Los Angeles nightclub owner, discovered his family roots and went public after his father, famed hotel mogul Elliot Crawford, denied that he's his father.

“Sounds like a case for Maury Povich,” the reporter said. “But it's much deeper than the stories on the salacious talk show as the Crawford family is in the midst of producing a family book. Andrea Jackson is in LA with more on this story. Andrea.”

The camera cut to a pretty, brown-skinned reporter with the Hollywood sign as her backdrop. “AJ, there's no lack of drama in Hollywood and this story is just adding to it. Most of us know about former womanizer Solomon Crawford and his connections with some of Hollywood's sexiest leading ladies. Now, he and his family are dealing with accusations that Elliot Crawford was living a double life and had another family on the West Coast.”

Dana wanted to change the channel, but she was riveted. And still a little pissed that she had to watch HLN to find out the truth—or at least Adrian's version of it.

“That man,” Adrian said, “decided that money was more important than being a father to me or having a relationship with my mother.”

“When did you find out that Elliot Crawford was your father?”

“My mother told me with her last breath. Then I researched this man. He wants people to believe that he's all about family, but that couldn't be further from the truth.”

“Why are you telling your story now?”

Adrian paused, then looked into the camera. “Because people need to know the truth.”

His last statement incensed her and Dana snapped the TV off and tossed the remote across the room.

“Damn,” Imani exclaimed.

“What?”

“In all of the years that I've known you, I've never seen you lose your cool like that.”

Dana shook her head. “No, because you're the one who usually flies off the handle.” She chuckled. “Remember when you threw a hot dog at that seventy-five-year-old man on Eleventh Avenue?”

“That dirty old man deserved it. Asking me if I wanted him to put mustard on my breasts. Ugh!”

“But he sold the best hot dogs ever,” Dana said. “A hot dog would be amazing right now. Did you order room service yet?”

Imani shook her head. “They had me on hold and I hung up.”

“Let's get out of here. We can go to Pink's.”

“Sounds good to me,” Imani said as she rose to her feet. “I've been dying for a good hot dog since we landed.”

They headed out the door and Dana promised herself that she would not think about Adrian.

Adrian paced back and forth in his penthouse, wondering if he'd made a mistake. Not about going public with his family drama, but keeping it from Dana. What if he'd ruined his chances to reconcile with her and eventually marry her? The look on her face when they parted ways reminded him of that terrible day at his penthouse. He'd hurt her again and this time, he hadn't meant to.

“I have to go to her,” he mumbled as he grabbed his keys. Adrian rushed to the elevator and waited for the doors to open. It was time to tell her everything. When the doors opened, Adrian was greeted with a right hook to the jaw.

“I hope you didn't think your media crusade didn't go unnoticed,” Solomon snapped.

Adrian rubbed his jaw. “Dad send you to do his dirty work?”

“He's not your father! Where in the hell do you get off telling these lies?”

Adrian punched Solomon in the face, causing him to stumble backward. Solomon started to charge at him again, but stopped and shook his head. “I could beat you to a bloody pulp, but you'd just use it for more TV time.”

“I don't give a damn about being on TV. Why don't you ask your father who Pamela Bryant is? Want me to get a DNA test?”

“What's your end game? How much money do you want?”

“Money? Is that a Crawford trait? Everything is about money? I don't give a damn about your money. You and Dad can keep your riches. It's obvious that I don't need a damned thing from you. But my mother's last breath was about that man. Do you know how I felt knowing that my mother left behind the city she loved because this slimy bastard wanted to stay with your mother for money?”

Solomon clenched his fists at the mention of his mother. As much as he didn't want to admit it, there was a ring of truth in what Adrian was saying. Los Angeles had always been a forbidden place to build a hotel while his mother was alive—even after they'd retired and he and Richmond were in charge.

“How did your mother know my father?” Solomon asked.

Adrian sighed and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “They met when she worked in the Crawford hotel in Harlem.”

Solomon looked as if he was deep in thought for a moment. “That sorry bastard,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Adrian asked with a smug smirk.

“Why now? Why did you decide to come out now?”

Adrian glanced at his watch. “I don't have to answer to you. I have to go.”

“No, you have to answer my damned question,” Solomon said as he blocked Adrian's exit.

Adrian slapped his hand away. “Keep your hands to your fucking self,” he growled. “You want answers, go talk to your father.” Pushing past Solomon, Adrian pressed the elevator button and waited for the doors to open.

When they opened and he stepped on, he was none too pleased that Solomon followed him. “Look, if what you're saying is true . . .”

“What? If you don't shut the f—Look, I don't owe you a damned explanation. You need to get that from your father. All he'll ever be to me is a sperm donor.”

Solomon leaned back against the mirrored wall and studied Adrian. He could see similarities. Strong ones. “Damn,” he mumbled.

Adrian glanced at him. “What now?”

“You're not lying.”

Adrian rolled his eyes and bit back a caustic comment. Lying was probably a family trait. He was sure his brother did his share of lying to all of the women he'd strung along. He knew for certain that Elliot Crawford was a liar. When the doors opened, Adrian bolted. He'd entertained his brother long enough.